I lost my art teacher in a tragic accident. Robert Durham had been instructing me in the finer points of drawing for several years. It all started as a youngster, when I asked my mother to talk to Mr. Durham about art classes. I took some of my drawings to the post office one day and asked him if he would consider me as a student. He told me that I was to young, but if I still wanted to take lessons at a later date, then I should try again. I am sure that he thought I would forget. Mother talked to him after I got older and they agreed on one dollar a class. We met once a week. He was a cultural minded man and attended any event that took place in the county and surrounded area. Mr. Durham married late in life and his wife Burnice was his exact female counterpart. On this particular occasion, they invited me to attend an event in Crossett. I decided not to attend, but did not confirm that until they stopped by the house on the evening of the concert. Mr. Terrel, a teacher at Hamburg High, was also invited. On the curve across from the drive-in, Mr. Durham and Mr. Terrel lost their lives because of a drunk driver. Mrs. Durham spent several years in recovery. I did odd jobs for her until I left for college. Life isn’t about saving, it’s about scattering.
Posted on: Thu, 12 Sep 2013 05:59:35 +0000